I’m sure she just deletes her messages, anyway, so I end the call and drop the phone into my purse.

After it goes to voice mail, I debate whether to leave a message or just call back later tonight. I dial her number and hit send and wait for her to pick up on the other end. I just have no idea when I’ll find time to fit it in, thanks to Lydia’s erratic scheduling. I haven’t even built up a clientele at the salon I’m working at, so I’m definitely going to have to look for a second job. And I had to sell my car in order to afford the move, so I have the choice between public transportation and my feet, considering I’m now penny-pinching in order to be able to afford the lawyer I just met with. Dallas is spread out and expansive, and did I mention the heat? It’s so hot. At least in Portland, I had access to almost everything the city had to offer, all within a decent walk. Living in downtown Dallas is nothing like living in downtown Portland. I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes and begin heading in the direction of my apartment. Unlike now, when I’d do anything to get back to Portland. I visited Texas once when I was fifteen and although that trip wasn’t a pleasant one, I wouldn’t take back a single second of it. I grew up in Portland, Oregon, and assumed I would spend the rest of my life there. I’ve been living here all of three weeks and so far it’s everything I thought it would be: hot, humid, and lonely. He has me set up an appointment through his secretary and then sends me on my way, back out into the Texas heat. “I’ll be back as soon as I get my first paycheck.” According to the paperwork that was filed back in Portland, you’ve put yourself in a tough spot. “The only promise I can make is that I’ll do everything I can to ensure the judge does rule in your favor. “And there’s no guarantee the judge will rule in my favor?” Actually, I’m going to have to rob a damn bank. He came highly recommended and I knew it was going to be expensive, but I had no idea it would be this expensive. Instead, I glance down at the business card in my hand. I fail to tell him what a horrible analogy that is. He leans back in his chair, pulling his hands to his chest and resting them on his stomach. “Auburn, what you’re asking me to do is going to cost money.”

He folds his arms over the mahogany desk and clasps his hands together, pressing the pads of his thumbs against one other. The wrinkles around his mouth become more prominent as he attempts to keep from frowning. “Do you work on a sliding-scale basis?” I ask him. There’s no way I can afford this with my income.

I squirm in my chair as soon as he tells me his hourly rate.

Colleen hoover confess book series